Cat. #0104 (MFH #575) - As sung by Mrs. Ethel Hunter, Springfield, Missouri on May 28, 1958
O, the slimest man I ever saw
Was over in Hoboken
And when I tell how slim he was
Folks think I'm just a jokin'
He's slim as any egg shell
And the skin of a new potata
And the only trip he ever made
Was to glide thru a nutmeg grader
He would'nt go out on a stormy night
He would'nt go out alone
For fear some lame an' hungry dog
Would take him for a bone
He was prowling 'round th house one night
When a bedbug cought him by th seat of th pants
And yanked him up th chimney
O, my, goodbye
He of'en lost his breath
He fell through a hole in th seat of his pants
And choked himself to death